


like a house on fire

by lisainthesky



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Firefighter Thor, Lingerie, M/M, Meet-Cute, and too many background characters to tag sorry, those ones only get tags because they make background relationships lol, uh um more tags later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisainthesky/pseuds/lisainthesky
Summary: Steve is not wearing nearly enough clothing to conceal an awkward boner. Also, Clint almost burned the house down so they’re probably going to get lectured on fire safety and not letting your idiot friend be in the kitchen alone, or whatever firefighters say to people after fires. Steve has no idea, but he should probably pay attention to it and not think about the tall, hot firefighter naked.Sam and Bucky have a lingerie themed bachelor party, Clint almost burns the house down, and Thor is just one of the hot firefighters who responds while everyone stands around outside, half-naked.





	like a house on fire

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this tumblr post](https://chibisquirt.tumblr.com/post/181588599662/i-used-to-work-in-the-lingerie-department-of-a)

"You know, Steve," Bucky says, setting the bottle of vodka down with a thump and handing Steve the cup he was filling, "When we said cute pajamas, I really thought you would show up in flannel with, like, unicorns or something."

Steve squints at Bucky as he drinks. He's had enough to drink tonight that he only barely notices that his screwdriver is mostly vodka with some orange juice on top.

"Why? I'm not that much of a prude."

“Hey, what’s wrong with unicorn flannel?” Clint protests from his spot halfway under the coffee table.

Sam snorts into his cup and Bucky ignores them both.

"That's not what I meant,” Bucky tells Steve. “But I mean...I'm just your best friend and I had no idea you owned anything like that."

He gestures to Steve, indicating just about everything Steve's wearing, little as it is. His little black shorts with tiny white polka dots only just cover his ass and the way they drape over his dick leaves almost nothing to the imagination. The sheer white robe with wide furry trim, only slightly longer than the shorts, does little to cover anything up. It doesn’t even close all the way in front.

The whole outfit is a lot more comfortable than Steve anticipated, even if he can't believe he bought it.

The thing is, Steve knew as soon as Bucky and Sam said their bachelor party was “cute pajamas/lingerie” themed that he was going to have to step it up. He did already own shorts exactly like this pair - albeit in a plain navy blue and without the little strip of white lace around the thighs - but the robe was a last minute addition. It’s something so ridiculous that only the thought of sitting around in his underwear with people like Sharon and Bucky - all Steve’s friends, really - could make him buy it.

“You know, I didn’t even have to help him pick any of this out,” Sharon says, plopping down next to Steve. She’s wearing a lacy black babydoll and panties and the whole outfit is sheer everywhere except her nipples and between her legs.

Clint taps her on the leg, looking up with expectant and near-pleading eyes. “I just put them in, fifteen minutes,” Sharon tells him without even looking down. Clint groans, then hauls himself up and heads to the kitchen, probably to watch the pizza bake through the oven door.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can dress myself, you know.”

“Steve, I had to tell you not to wear khakis to dinner tonight.”

“You texted me that of your own free will!” Steve protests, pinching her bare thigh. She hisses and does it back, harder. “I wasn’t going to anyway.” Steve lets go and removes her fingers from his thigh, pouting at the nail marks left behind. “And for your information, I already owned these shorts, thank you very much. I can buy cute things without your help.”

“Look at you, all grown up,” Maria says.

“What about Maria!” Steve cries, gesturing. “She wore slacks to dinner.”

“And I looked damn good,” Maria says with a shrug. Steve can’t debate that, because it’s true, but he thinks that has a lot to do with the fact that Maria has less resting-bitch-face and more resting-I’ll-fuck-you-up-face.

“Well, Carol is wearing a sports bra,” Steve tries. “T’challa is wearing a onesie with cat ears!”

“It’s cute,” T’challa says, pointing to the sparkly cat-eared headband he’d pulled out when the hood of his onesie got too hot.

“And I also look great,” Carol says from where she’s lounging on a bean bag chair. “And look how short these shorts are. Sexy.”

“They’re athletic shorts,” Steve says. Carol shrugs.

“I’m just glad you committed, that’s all,” Bucky says. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Who’d you buy the undies for?”

“No one,” Steve lies. He should have known better; it immediately makes everyone perk up.

“Well since you’re clearly lying, now you have to tell us,” Sharon says.

Steve rolls his eyes and takes another big drink. He’s about to tell them it was for Brock - a five-month mistake that left Steve more messed up than he likes to admit and without a wedding date - when the fire alarm in the kitchen goes off, loud and shrill and jarring. Everyone jumps about a mile, cursing, and then Bucky says, “Dammit, Clint!” and springs off the couch.

There’s more cursing as everyone follows him to the kitchen, where the source of the problem is clear. The oven is open, one rack halfway out with the pizza on it literally on fire. Clint is waving a hand towel at it and saying “No, pizza, no!”

“What the fuck, Clint!” Bucky yells.

“I don’t know what happened,” Clint wails back. “I opened it up and then there was fire!”

Sam throws his hands in the air. “Why are you like this? _How_ are you like this?”

“I don’t know!” Clint says again. “Just help me!”

“Move so I can get the extinguisher, then!” Bucky makes a shooing motion at him. Clint starts to shuffle out of the way, trying to avoid the burning pizza, then coughs as he steps directly into the growing cloud of smoke.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says, and turns back to the living room. He snatches the tablecloth off the dining table and pushes past everyone to throw it wholly over the pizza just as Bucky pulls the fire extinguisher out from under the sink.

The fire goes down easily under the heavy cotton as Steve pats at it a little to make sure. Bucky’s got the fire extinguisher raised like it might spring back to life at any moment, but after a minute of stillness, he lowers it. Most of the tension drains out of the kitchen as he does, except the fire alarm is still screaming overhead and the cloud of smoke really is nasty.

“Fuck,” Sam says, and throws open the window. “Steve, Carol, can you turn that damn alarm off?”

Steve squats so Carol can straddle his shoulders. She prods at the alarm for a minute before finally just yanking the battery out completely, cursing about the sound.

“You’re putting that back in in the morning,” Bucky tells her as Steve kneels to let her down.

“As long as it isn’t screaming into my ear,” she says, setting it on the counter.

“Sorry, guys,” Clint says, head low. “I really have no idea what happened.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but smiles. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, throwing his arm around Clint’s shoulders. “We shouldn’t have let you in the kitchen alone.”

Clint sighs, and before he can speak they all hear the sound of sirens through the open window. Clint groans.

“Damn it. Sorry.”

Bucky and Sam live in a nice, safe neighborhood only a few blocks from the fire station. Normally Steve is glad they’re safe, but it means it’s only a minute before firefighters are knocking on the door and they’re forced to answer it in their underwear.

“Everything alright here?” There are two firefighters at the door, both with their eyebrows climbing as they take in the group of them in the doorway and clearly decide to fall back on protocol.

“Yeah, we’re alright,” Sam says. “Small kitchen fire.”

The one in front looks past them, into the house. “Quite a bit of smoke,” she says. “Why don’t  you all...step outside while we take a look, just make sure you’re clear.”

“You got it,” Bucky says, and heads out before anyone can say anything about getting more clothes.

Steve has never been jealous of a cat onesie before in his life until he’s walking past two very attractive firefighters in his absurd robe and tiny shorts, watching the tail of T’challa’s onesie swing back and forth.

“Christ on a crutch,” he mutters as they gather on the sidewalk. “Of all the nights to light something on fire, Clint, seriously.”

“Shut up,” Clint hisses back.

“No! I am going to--”

“No, shut up, Steve, please, Natasha is here.”

Steve follows the tiny jerk of Clint’s head to where a firefighter is approaching them from the truck. It’s definitely Natasha Romanoff, a friend of Bucky’s from college and another one of his groomsmen. Steve would be more freaked out if Natasha hadn’t seen him in his underwear and various other compromising situations, but Clint has only met her a handful of times and is so infatuated it’s actually painful to watch.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve says. “You look great.”

Clint whines and tries to hide behind him.

“I was sad I couldn’t make it and all but you didn’t need to go this far,” Natasha says as she reaches them.

Bucky laughs and gives her a hug. “It just isn’t a party without you,” he says. Natasha may have seen Steve in his underwear multiple times but he’s still jealous of the way Bucky can be so casual about standing on the street in nothing but black silk boxer-briefs. “Or without something getting lit on fire.”

“I haven’t heard that since college,” Nat says drily. She gives Sam a hug - his boxer-briefs match Bucky’s - and catches sight of Steve over his shoulder. She whistles lowly, letting go and stepping around Sam to look at him.

“Well, look at you, Rogers,” she says with a sharp grin. “That is quite the outfit.”

“Isn’t it?” Sharon says. “He picked it out all on his own.”

Natasha gasps dramatically. “Let’s see it, come on.”

She takes his hands and pushes him into a spin, going up on tiptoes. Steve still has to duck under their arms, but figures she gets a good enough look because she claps when he stops.

“Very nice,” she says, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes focus on Clint, caught in the open to Steve’s side as he steps back.

“Hey,” she says, her smile never wavering as she takes in his pajamas.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint says. It’s dark out but Steve is close enough to see the blush on his cheeks, although you’d never be able to hear it in his voice. “Nice night, huh?”

Behind Natasha, Sharon presses her fist to her mouth and buries her face in Maria’s shoulder.

“Not too bad,” Natasha says. “I like your pajamas. Where’d you get them?”

Steve really can't watch this, so he leaves them to it, wandering over to stand with Maria, Sharon, T'challa and Carol. The other firefighter who was by the truck with Natasha is asking Bucky and Sam questions, taking their information down on a clipboard. He’s tall and broad with a little grey in his beard and at his temples where his braided hair is pulled into a thick ponytail. Besides that, though, he doesn’t look over 30.

“I guess it’s true what they say about firefighters, huh?” Sharon says, having managed to get her laughter under control.

“No kidding,” Maria mutters. “Did you see the ones at the door?”

“Hell yeah, I did,” Carol says. “Glad we’re wearing our best underwear, huh, Steve?” She nudges him with an elbow, grinning.

“Shut up,” Steve says. “You’re wearing shorts, and I look ridiculous.”

All three women scoff.

“You look amazing,” Sharon says.

“Really gay,” Maria adds. “But you’re not wearing a shirt, of course you look good.”

“Here,” T’challa says. He reaches up and shoves his headband into Steve’s hair. Then he pulls up the hood on his onesie and huddles in close to Steve’s side. “I’m cold. And now you look even cuter.”

Carol perks up suddenly, nodding her chin towards the house and nudging Steve. The two firefighters who came to the door are coming back out, crossing the street towards them. Even in the dim light of the streetlamps, they’re both just as attractive as Nat and the other man. Steve never really thought suspenders and yellow pants would do it for him but the framing of the suspenders is just...unfair.

“Do you think she could bench-press me?” Carol wonders, eyes trained on the woman. She only comes up to about the man’s chin, but she’s broad-shouldered and sturdy like he is. Her dark curls are pulled into a thick ponytail below her helmet and she’s got the kind of smile that promises mischief. Steve thinks she really might be able to bench-press Carol, and also that if the two of them ever put their heads together there would be utter madness.

She winks directly at Carol as the two of them get closer, who smiles back and waves. Steve decides he doesn’t want to make it his problem until he has to and stops thinking about it.

It’s not like he doesn’t have the perfect distraction walking right up to them. The man had come to the door behind the woman but it’s not like Steve could miss him. He’s enormous, probably two or three inches taller than Steve and broader across the shoulders. God, his shirt looks like it’s hanging on by a thread and maybe a prayer. Someone’s prayer. Certainly not Steve’s.

He’s smiling too as they cross the street, laughing at some joke his partner made. It’s loud in the quiet street, uninhibited, and his smile is huge. Steve likes the sound of it, likes his open happy face and his big shoulders and the light sheen of sweat on his neck dipping into his t-shirt. Steve would give a lot to follow that trail with his mouth, under the shirt and--

Steve reels back mentally. They’re in the middle of the street for god’s sake, and Steve is not wearing nearly enough clothing to conceal an awkward boner. Also, Clint almost burned the house down so they’re probably going to get lectured on fire safety and not letting your idiot friend be in the kitchen alone, or whatever firefighters say to people after fires. Steve has no idea, but he should probably pay attention to it and not think about the tall, hot firefighter naked.

“Well it looks like it was a fun party,” the woman says as they stop. She’s grinning at Carol, one eyebrow slightly up.

“Really fun,” Carol says. She looks very smug.

“Maybe a little too much?” asks the guy standing with Sam and Bucky. He sounds like he’s in charge and his face hasn’t changed once taking in all of them standing around in their underwear.

“Eh, Clint gets a little rowdy when it comes to pizza,” Bucky says.

“That’s - I did not! Do not. I don’t!” Clint protests, darting a look at Natasha.

“Who smothered the fire?” the other guy asks. He’s taken his helmet off, dark blonde hair sticking up with sweat. He is, unfortunately, still very attractive, even without the shadow covering half his face.

“I did,” Steve manages after a slightly-too-long pause. “Uh. Tablecloth.”

“Good thinking,” the guy says, smiling, and then he steps forward. He reaches out fingers just barely touching the feathery trim on the sleeve of the robe. Steve can’t breathe.

“Looks like you got a little singed, here,” he says. “I’ll check you out, over here.”

He gestures to the truck across the street, a question in his eyes. Steve hesitates again, glancing down at his sleeve, until Maria kicks him in the ankle and clears her throat.

“Okay,” Steve says, and follows the guy over to the truck. He stands awkwardly as the firefighter pulls out a first aid kit and starts going through it, his back to Steve. Rather than continue to stare, Steve examines the sleeve of his robe closer, finding a few singed feathers and spots of grease. Damn it.

“Go ahead and sit here,” the firefighter says as he steps back from the truck. He’s pushed the first aid kit to one side of the little platform. Steve moves over to it, but he jolts back up as soon as his bare thighs touch the cool metal of the truck.

“I - it’s cold,” he says, and resists the urge to tug on his robe and shorts. “I can stand.”

“Right, god, I’m sorry!” the fireman says, looking so earnest that Steve is thrown for a moment. He reaches up and shrugs out of his big yellow coat, folding in half and laying it on the ledge for Steve.

“I didn’t even think about it,” he says, like it’s somehow his fault Steve wore this getup out here. “Here, that should help.”

“Thanks,” Steve says. He’s too baffled to even protest, just hops up onto the seat. The jacket isn’t warm, exactly, a little rubbery, but it’s not cold metal pressing against his bare thighs so he’ll take it.

“I’m Thor,” the firefighter tells him as he steps closer, holding up a flashlight and shining it on Steve’s hands. Steve holds them out automatically, suppressing a stupid shiver when Thor takes one wrist in his broad hand and turns it over to examine it.

“Steve,” Steve manages to say. “Thanks for, uh, responding so quickly.”

“It’s a surprisingly quiet night,” Thor says, smiling. He’s got a bit of an accent, a rounding of the vowels. “Although more surprising was that Natasha knew the address we were headed to. We were all quite relieved to not find any actual flames when we arrived.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, us too.”

“That was very good thinking with the tablecloth.” Thor pauses his examination to smile at Steve and Steve’s stomach does a little flop.

“I - it was - thanks,” Steve finally manages, looking down, face hot.

“So, are you all celebrating something?” Thor asks, switching to Steve’s other hand. He’s incredibly gentle, even though his hands circle even Steve’s wrists.

“My friends’ bachelor party. The guys who own the house. They’re getting married in three weeks but they have all the same friends, so they decided to just have the party together.”

“I see. And has it been as fun as it looks?”

Steve swears he glances up as he said it, a little sparkle in his eye. He’s back to turning Steve’s hand over before Steve can really process it.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his blush deepening. Fuck. “We went to dinner, drinks, then came back for the cute underwear and bad movies portion of the evening.”

This time Thor really does smile at him. “Ah, so there was a theme.” Steve just nods, swallowing. Thor’s smile gets wider. “I think your outfit fits it very well.”

“Thanks.” Steve can’t look away. He’s smiling too, he realizes, even though it feels like his face is on fire.

“Well, you’re fine.” Thor releases Steve’s hand but doesn’t step away. He winks.  “The hands, I mean. Looks like it mostly got your feathers.”

Steve is blushing down his chest and he can’t stop smiling. “I suppose that’s good, but I just bought this. Do you think fire insurance will cover it?”

“I don’t know, but if it doesn’t, you can consider it a reminder of your quick-thinking and bravery.”

They’re still laughing and grinning at each other when the other man comes up behind Thor.

“Everything alright, Thor?”

“Just fine, Captain,” Thor says, turning to him. “No damage except to the robe.”

The captain nods. Up close, Steve can see that his eyes are light brown, nearly gold, with barely noticeable crows feet and smile lines in his dark skin. Is there some kind of rule about firefighters being attractive? Is it in the job description? Steve doesn’t know but he’s seriously considering asking this captain.

“Quick thinking with the tablecloth, Mr…” the captain holds out a hand.

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” Steve shakes his hand and suppresses his laughter at the image of the serious fire captain shaking hands with a man in what amounts to lingerie. “Thanks. And thank you for coming, Captain.”

The captain just nods. “We’ve got to get going,” he says to Thor. He pauses before turning away, giving Steve a barely perceptible smile. “Sorry about your robe, Mr. Rogers. It’s a nice one.”

He turns away and heads to the front of the truck, leaving Steve staring, trying not to scream with laughter. He makes eye contact with Thor again, who looks just as shocked and thrilled as Steve feels.

“Is he being serious?” Steve has to whisper, otherwise he’d yell it.

“I’ve been at this station five years and I’ve never heard him mock someone with a false compliment,” Thor says. He turns that big smile to Steve. “Besides, he’s right.”

Steve just grins, ducking his head a little until Thor takes a half step closer.

“Can I have your phone number?” he asks.

Steve looks up, blinking, and swallows the delighted shout that builds in his stomach. His heart is pounding.

“I’d like that,” he says, then realizes-- “My phone is inside. Fuck.”

Thor frowns. “Mine is at the station.”

Steve looks around, eyes landing on the first aid kit. “Got a pen?”

Thor grabs the box and roots around in it frantically, finally pulling a ballpoint pen out from under several gauze wraps. He brandishes it, triumphant, and Steve takes it, holding out his hand for Thor’s wrist. Thor is still grinning hugely as Steve writes his number on the back of Thor’s hand, going over it twice to make sure all the numbers are nice and dark.

“There,” he says when he’s satisfied that it won’t rub off too fast. He returns Thor’s smile, still blushing and feeling like his whole chest is full of butterflies. “Text me?”

“Absolutely,” Thor says. He holds Steve’s hands as he hops off the little seat Thor cleared for him, squeezing once before he lets go and collects his coat and the first aid kit. “Tonight. When I have my phone.”

“Yo, Thor, let’s go!”

Steve looks over to where the woman who’d been flirting with Carol is waving from the back of the truck, grinning at Thor like she knows what’s going on.

“Yeah, Val, I’m coming,” Thor calls back. He turns back to Steve. “Good night. Have fun at your party.” He hesitates, then kisses Steve on the cheek, so quick Steve thinks he might have imagined it, then jogs towards the front of the truck.

Steve manages to wait till he’s fully out of sight to fist pump, but only just.

**Author's Note:**

> i am also still on [the blue hellsite,](lisa-in-the-sky.tumblr.com) mostly for lack of a better place to go. come hang


End file.
